taxonomites | And things were going so well... [Location: His house]

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And things were going so well... [Location: His house]

Jimmy Novak would like to inform everyone that he will regretfully be unavailable for some time, for personal reasons, and will not be receiving company.

He'd like to. What he's been doing, upon waking up and feeling exhausted and having lost a month of time, is obsessively painting sigils in blood on the inside walls and doors of his house, and laying salt lines on the windowsills. (The Enochian dictionary is very helpful in supplying new and exciting ways to tell various types of Celestial and Infernal beings that their presence is Not Welcome, Thank You.)

Once he's either feeling secure enough or a little light headed from blood loss, he'll retreat to the downstairs bathroom with his biggest knife and his first aid kit. He'll patch himself up, keep the knife within easy reach, and then have a long, therapeutic bout of the screaming horrors.

Always making sure the knife's close, because if the angel's found him again, he's gonna use it on somebody.

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"Hey, are you all right over there?"

Emma herself is doing a bit better, the fast/irregular heartbeat has mostly settled down. She's still been holed up in her apartment with little to do but watch the map, which brought Jimmy's stationary dot to her attention. It's probably none of her business, she knows, but she also knows her own semi-isolation has been brought on by an ailment. If someone else has been affected, it's best that they're made aware of it.

So yeah. Sheriff-like instincts are a thing. And if he doesn't answer she'll rally herself to do an in-person welfare check...possibly with some back-up.

There's a rapidly flipping camera and a loud clatter of the tablet hitting the floor. A faint light source off to the left (a night-light, probably. Not bright enough for a window.) lights up a.... bathroom. Tile and a big shape that's probably a bathtub. With symbols on the walls painted in something dark that makes the translator flip out and give Emma messages about how it's unable to provide translations.

Out of the corner of the screen, she can see a figure huddled up in a corner. He's shaking and muttering to himself, which sets off more translation errors for the software. There's a bandage around his hand and a big knife nearby. No ambient sounds, just a guy in a corner, shivering and trying to hide.

...well, that's not what she'd expected. Emma sits up and stares at her tablet, feeling her heart leap all over again. The translation gibberish gets dismissed as just that as she focuses on trying to be useful.

"Jimmy?" That's the name on the tablet, and she tries to modify her strident tone down to something more confident. "Jimmy, if you can hear me my name is Emma and I'm coming to you. Tell me if I need to bring you anything!"

The figure in the corner flinches at hearing his name. But no. It's not... not him. It's the... flat... thing. Tablet. It's talking to him. The momentary brightness of the screen makes him look away, as well. He freezes, while he's reaching for the tablet. Head cocked like he's listening for something, and crouching down like he's expecting it to grab him. The camera angle pans over the bathroom ceiling and settles on Jimmy's face. Wild eyed and terrified, he looks at the camera and --

Error: Attempting Translation. Proceeding with extrapolation and vocabulary construction

>>No/Cease/Desist, you/human/friend will lead/guide/discover seraph/threat/Angel Of Thursday to I/me/self. I/me/self plead/beg/beseech... Stop/End/Enough! if seraph/threat/Angel Of Thursday finds/discovers/knows about/regarding/location of I/me/self...<< He breaks off, shuddering at the thought of being reunited with the angel Castiel.

Emma stares and blinks, not entirely sure what to do with that information/what any of that information even is. Something about angels, and whatever it is has him terrified. The alarm bells are going off that she really, really should tell the others but he''s hurt and alone and scared, so...plan A it is.

"I'll protect you," she says, as if the words will make it so. She's fought a dragon and a demon (okay with help) and lived to tell the tale, if there actually is an angel she's sure she'll be fine. Fairly sure. Confident enough, see her flash a smile? "I'm sorry, but I have to try and help you. Everything will be fine, just hang in there."

And if the threat turns out to be Jimmy himself, well, she's got a bigger, more intimidating knife than he does. Emma grabs her first aid go-bag and sword from off the peg by her door, hesitates, then sends a quick text to everyone but him.

going 2 see jimmy hes spooked. something about an angle. might need backup if ne1 can help.

Someday Emma will proofread her texts and stop using chatspeak but today is not that day.

Jimmy doesn't look as confident as Emma does, watching her on the tablet, then glancing around the room again. He can't feel the angel, but that doesn't mean anything. The angel is very fast, and could have gotten away before Jimmy was aware again.

Hearing that someone else is on the way isn't quite as reassuring as Emma'd think. The last time he dragged other people into his mess with the angel, everything had gone horribly wrong and he'd had to beg to take the angel back. His faults are many and varied, but he couldn't condemn Claire to eternity chained to the comet in his place.

But Emma thinks she can help, which counts for something. So he keeps a tight grip on the knife, flexes his injured hand a few times and settles in to wait.

Emma's not sure she can help (nor exactly what she's getting into) but that's never stopped her before. Other things which have never stopper her before are doors, and she makes quick work of the front door to Jimmy's house.

She's treated it better than Jason's, at least, in that it's still functional. She retrieves a flashlight from her go-bag and turns it on, scanning the entryway for any possible threats.

"Jimmy? It's Emma, where are you?"

There's a faint crunching as Emma walks in, and glancing down, there's white granules all over the floor. Sand, maybe? And there's a line of it in front of the door, scattered when Emma came in. More symbols on the walls out here, but these are drawn in marker and- Yep, there's a jumbo Sharpie on the floor behind a little table. And the symbols themselves are a little... strange. If Emma's sensitive, there's some crude warding magic in those symbols. All the symbols seem to be in Sharpie, as Emma looks around, except for the ones on a door in the hallway. That symbol is painted in the dark red of dried blood.

The room is dark inside, until her eyes adjust. Window against the back wall, taped over and painted with another symbol. Underneath that, tub with toilet and sink off to the left. Small nightlight plugged in, to avoid the shock of turning the bathroom lights on at 3am to see what you're doing. The right has a laundry hamper (kicked over, spilling two shirts and a pair of jeans on the floor), closet door and.... Jimmy, tucked back between the wall and the tub.

He flinches when she comes in, raising his bandaged hand to try and block whatever's coming. Blood's soaking through it, and he's terrified. Tears stream down his face as he stares over his hand and watches Emma. Panic, anxiety, flashback... Something's wrong with him, and... And he's armed. Carving knife about nine inches long or so, raised and held defensively as he peeks over his hand at Emma from his hiding spot. (Such as it is. He barely fits back there.)

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And things were going so well... [Location: His house]

[voice]

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[video]

[Video] (Also> >> << is for Enochian. Jimmy's not doing so hot right now.)

[Video/text (to everyone but Jimmy)] bb ;_;

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I am the worst, sorry :(

S'all good. Work's kicking my butt anyway. :)